The Case of the Sea Bug (The Wolflock Cases Book 3)

by Rhiannon D. Elton

  Geagle went about the deck around them collecting the Tuiti fruit in a barrel he held under one arm, filling it and singing a song about soup, so Wolflock expected that they would be having Tuiti soup for lunch. The sun was at its peak when Wolflock’s suspicions were confirmed and Geagle jovially brought out a pot of soup.

  “Grubs up!” he announced to a hungry company.

  They gathered their bowls and spoons as the crew ate some of the fruit raw, waiting for their turn. Wolflock was ill fed for the excessive amounts of Tuiti fruit that they’d consumed for the last week and he chose to just have hempseed bread while Mothy ate three bowls to himself as well as everyone else’s leftovers.

  “Yours is wriggling!” Tinni laughed and pointed at Hognut’s beard as it consumed a very soft and chewy Tuiti fruit.

  Suddenly Hognut began spluttering and threw it over the side of the ship.

  “What’s wrong?” Slavidus asked concernedly even though he didn’t leave Yifi’s side.

  “It’s a Sea Bug!”

  The crew suddenly grew pale and Mothy looked green.

  “What’s a Sea Bug?” Wolflock asked and looked around expectantly.

  “It’s a water slug that is camouflaged to look like the Tuiti fruit so that the fish in the water don’t eat it. Tuiti fruit are poisonous to the fish until their skin has broken down. The Sea Bugs are poisonous to us though,” the Captain answered solemnly.

  “Geagle! You didn’t put any in the soup did you?” Slavidus asked anxiously.

  Geagle looked mightily offended.

  “I ain’t dumb!” he scoffed “I chop ‘em up good and proper before I chuck ‘em in the pot!”

  “Aye, aye. I was only asking. Calm your bald head,” Slavidus shushed him and sat back down.

  Although the lunch was safe, Wolflock’s gut still told him he’d best stick to the bland bread rather than any more sickly sweet fruit.

  He turned to Mothy, who was looking very ill.

  “You didn’t eat one did you?” Wolflock asked sternly, thinking his friend would eat anything.

  “Nay…” Mothy groaned and struggled to smile, “I just… bleh… ate too much…”

  He burped and gripped his stomach, then watched as Nü was sent below deck to collect her father’s scrolls on some kind of herbal medicine for motion sickness. Wolflock had noticed that Nü seemed to be the errand runner for her father, but he would never let her look at his scrolls, while trying to get his sons interested in them with no avail.

  “On second thought I think a little sleep will make me feel the world of good!” he grinned and leaped to his feet in a miraculous recovery.

  “Good luck,” Wolflock grinned and went to watch the banks of the river from the side of the ship, hoping that Mothy had enough courage to articulate what he needed to.

  In the short time he’d known Mothy, Wolflock had developed a deep appreciation for his company. Although seemingly simple, Mothy was kind, generous and seem to think of the things that Wolflock overlooked. Wolflock took it upon himself to take serious note of these deficiencies and improve upon them. For the present time Wolflock had a use for Mothy, but there was also a degree of sentimental attachment that Wolflock only ever had felt for his immediate family.

  ‘Mothy must be my brother in spirit,’ he thought to himself as he gazed up at the lazily moving clouds with his crystal blue eyes slowly closing with the sleepy warmth of the Autumn sun, ‘It will be fun to venture to Mystentine with him,’ one of the clouds morphed into a waving hand, ‘And hopefully... much further than that...’

  Chapter 3, The Mysterious Illness

  “Hngh!”

  Wolflock’s face scrunched up as he came out of his slumber.

  “Blergh!”

  It was a different noise by the same person. Wolflock was awake now and aware than the sun was setting for the light around him was a pretty pink and the air was becoming crisp. The company had obviously left him to fall asleep on the deck for whatever reason and it looked as if it was about time for supper, but what was that awful noise?

  He sat up and brushed his longish black hair from his face to see Grogen leaning over the side of the ship retching.

  “Good heavens man!” he started in alarm, “Isn’t it bad form for a crewman to be getting seasick?”

  Grogen looked dismally up at him, his eyes watery and his mouth dribbling with clear vomit.

  “Hush, boy!” he croaked and hung over the ship’s railing, “I ain’t got seasick. This is sumthin’ else...”

  Wolflock looked at with mild distaste. It was likely that he was lying and didn’t want to lose face, but Wolflock decided to humour him, partly out of curiosity and partly because he didn’t want to be eating the burnt parts of their meals til they reached their destinations end.

  “What makes you say that?” he asked a little more dryly than he’d intended.

  Grogen sighed, spat and turned around, slumping to the floor.

  “I only got seasick for a ‘alf moon when I joined the crew. I was a youngen and I didn’t ‘ave me sea legs. Plus,” he added and raised his huge trembling hands in front of him, “I ain’t never got the shakes like this unless we been in Shiriling in Winter, but I’m fryin’ up!”

  Wolflock stared curiously at his hands, bulky and hairy as they were, quivering as if he was freezing.

  “I’m all hot and I’m shiverin’! Now that makes no sense!” said the huge man with his eyes widening and the pitch of his voice rising hysterically.

  “Why not speak to Nan Ji? Isn’t he a medical practitioner?”

  Grogen got wobbly to his feet and took a breath, “Aye... aye... that’s what I’ll do... Where would ‘e be, boy?”

  Wolflock was confused by his question. Surely he’d know that dinner was on...

  “In the dining hall I suppose?” he offered.

  “Aye... Aye...”

  Grogen deliriously wobbled to the dining hall and Wolflock followed him in, seeing that dinner must have been served a little earlier because a few of their company was missing. Mothy was the first that he noticed being absent, then also Slavidus and Yifi, Hognut and Parihaan. He had a feeling Slavidus and Yifi had private reasons for retiring early, Hognut may have been getting an instrument for the night’s entertainment, and Parihaan probably offended someone and left due to embarrassment. These were the most likely reasons in his head, but he couldn’t understand why Mothy wouldn’t still be eating and waiting for him.

  Geagle was serving Tanni and Tinni their bowls of Tuiti fruit stew (“I ‘ope it’s to yah likin’. I tried a few new ‘erbs but I canna’ smell so good n’more.”) and Wolflock felt his stomach churn. He was very ill fed of this fruit indeed...

  “Is there anything else to eat?” he nearly pleaded with Geagle as he heard Grogen asking Nan Ji about a treatment.

  “Not until we run out of Tuiti fruit,” he grinned a little wickedly, “Now quit yer belly achin’ and don’t waste it!”

  Wolflock scowled as he took a bowl of the stew and a whole loaf of hempseed bread. He proceeded to sit down at the dining table, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat without Mothy. He tried to come at the stew but as he poked the fluorescent pink and green chunks with his spoon his stomach shirked away, demanding savoury foods or nothing at all. He sighed and turned to Veluse who was sitting next to him.

  “Where is everyone tonight?” (and by everyone he meant Mothy)

  Veluse leaned back dramatically and swept his hand to his brow, “Oh woe, poor boy! You’ve not heard?”

  Wolflock’s face dropped into a bored irritated look. Veluse’s antics were once funny, but when being used on him he had little time for them.

  “No,” he sighed in a drawl, “Pray, tell me what has them missing such a scrumptious dinner.”

  It was more of a command than a request and he wanted to know more about Mothy than the others.

  “Oh woe to them! Poor, poor souls! Poor, poor, poor, poor troubled souls!”

  “Veluse!” Wolflock
hissed through gritted teeth, “Why is Mothy not here?!”

  Veluse began to chuckle darkly, “Oh dear boy! I didn’t know you had such strong... feelings for your friend!”

  “If you’ll not answer my questions I’ll go and find him for myself!” He snapped sharply and rose from the table.

  “Mothy never made it to dinner,” Fuhji said softly in a sad voice.

  Wolflock turned and the first thing he saw was that she was only eating the raw Tuiti fruit, not the stew, although Froderyk had two bowls empty before him.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “He went downstairs not long after lunch and hasn’t emerged since. The Captain says he is ill. Slavidus too. And Parihaan...” She seemed very concerned. Even Froderyk looked worriedly at his wife.

  “I’ll go and see him,” Wolflock nodded determinedly and grabbed his bowl of stew for Mothy (He’d never let go of his loaf of bread).

  Sure enough, as he descended the stairs he saw Nan Ji leading Grogen down to the crew’s sleeping quarters and could hear the groans of Parihaan, but he could only hear an eerie silence from Mothy’s room.

  “Hello?” he asked tentatively and opened Mothy’s door. “Are you awake?”

  To his surprise Mothy was laying flat on his back with his bed neatly wrapped around him and his eyes closed.

  “Aye...” he groaned and opened his eyes that had changed to a dull watery blue.

  “I brought you food. Fuhji told me you hadn’t been up to dinner.”

  “Oh thank you!” he croaked and propped himself up, “I have never travelled this far North before. I think the climate is affecting me...”

  Wolflock smiled reassuringly and sat on the edge of his bed, giving him the spoon and bowl, then biting into the bland bread.

  He couldn’t help but notice Mothy was sweating and as he ate his hand trembled frighteningly.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked but knew Mothy felt awful. He certainly looked awful.

  “Bloody awful...” he said through a mouthful of stew, “I’m hot and cold and my stomach is trying to climb out my face.”

  Wolflock took another bite and felt helpless. He didn’t know anything about medicine or healing. He vowed then to know all he could about herbs and substances by the time he left Mystentine.

  “Hopefully the food will settle it all down.”

  “Hope so!”

  For a while the food seemed to liven Mothy up. His face looked less peaky and his eyes got some of their sparkle back, so they spoke for a little while about how they couldn’t wait to get to Mystentine and what they wanted to study, but when Mothy started to drift off mid sentence, Wolflock knew that he should let him rest.

  As Wolflock got into his soft grey pyjamas and drifted off he realised that even though he wanted to learn all he could about everything, he knew that he needed to find some kind of direction to his study and his life.

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  “Hngh!”

  Wolflock’s face scrunched up as he came out of his slumber.

  “Blergh!”

  He felt the warmth of the blanket around his slender frame and was convinced he was still dreaming until he heard a chunky splash. The noise made him feel sick, but it wasn’t coming from Mothy’s room to his left as he nearly expected, but from Haatji’s room across the hallway.

  “Wait a moment, Haatji. Didi, empty her bucket,” came the soft, sweet voice of Nü.

  Wolflock didn’t want to move because it was only in the grey Autumn light of the morning, but his curiosity got the better of him when he heard a flump sound from Mothy’s room next to him.

  “Can I help?” he croaked and dragged his feet like a zombie toward Haatji’s room.

  Haatji was shaking her head and looked pale even under her brown skin.

  “She doesn’t want a man to touch her,” Nü said softly and touched Mothy’s shoulder as she reached above Haatji’s bed to get a cloth.

  Her touch had such a profound effect on Mothy that it startled Wolflock into full awakeness. He suddenly stood up straight with his chest pushed out and then fainted.

  “Oh dear!” Nü gasped as she pressed into a point on Haatji’s wrist as she fell back into her bed. “Wolflock! Please take Mothy back to bed. I’m the only one who can tend to Haatji!”

  Wolflock had caught Mothy from hitting his head and nodded, dragging his unconscious friend back onto his bed (which looked much too neat) and feeling like his head was running so quickly from adrenaline that he felt as if he was suddenly seeing the world through a crystal lens.

  “What can I do?” he asked quickly as Haatji lost consciousness.

  Nü looked uncomfortably at him as they both heard another bout of vomiting from Dlumi’s room.

  “Father may need you. He’s with Slavidus. I’m only treating Haatji because only women can touch her.”

  “Is there anything I can do for Mothy?” he asked with a deep concern etched across his sharp features.

  “Make sure he doesn’t stand again and keep one bucket of water as well as one empty bucket near him.”

  Wolflock was glad she knew she could trust him to know what they would be needed for. With all this vomiting it was essential that their fluids were maintained. He quickly dressed into slacks, shoes and shirt and dashed downstairs to grab two buckets, only to find the middle child of the Eastern family trying to stand under the weight of Goden, the smallest of the crew, but still huge compared to the small Eastern boy of twelve.

  “P-please lay back down! You’re not well enough to stand Mr Goden!” he squeaked and his legs trembled dangerously under the weight of the six foot tall thickly set man.

  “I... I need to... need to... the ship...” he breathed and collapsed.

  Gege would have been crushed had Wolflock not helped him to catch the falling giant.

  “Bed!” Gege wheezed and began dragging Goden to the bedding that had fallen under Goden’s hammock.

  Wolflock nodded and helped heave the huge man onto his back on the undersized makeshift bed as Gege grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat and vomit off of his patient.

  “Have you seen my father?” the small boy asked desperately as he patted down Goden’s face with the cleaner end of the cloth.

  “He’s treating Slavidus in the first mate’s room I expect. Do you need anything I can get?” He asked, wanting to get away from the sick in case he caught what they had. He never fared well with any illnesses.

  “Where is Nü?” Gege asked with a quaver in his voice.

  “With Haatji and Dlumi upstairs. What is wrong with them?”

  Gege looked fearfully at Goden, who was turning his head deliriously.

  “I don’t know... Nü would know... I mean father will know! Father will know for sure. I need a bucket of water to cool him, please!”

  Wolflock realised straight away that Gege was one; under a lot of pressure from his father to succeed, and two; was very inexperienced at his father’s art and knew that he was, and three; that he needed an extra bucket than what he said to catch any befoulment that Goden may spew out.

  His mind was still racing and Wolflock knew that he needed six buckets, possibly eight (two for each of the ill that he’d seen), but he also didn’t understand why Gege was by himself when clearly he was nervous and not able. He ran downstairs into the hull and found five wooden buckets (Three with dried fruit in them that he promptly tipped out onto a barrel) with rough hemp rope handles, hooked his arm through them and ran upstairs, not knowing when the next bought of vomiting would occur from any of them. He hastily dropped one bucket by Gege and Goden (“Thanks, but I only needed one,” Gege said in confusion at the other containers as Wolflock rushed passed without answering him) and found another two buckets with mops in them at the base of the stairs. The mops fell with a clatter, but in his urgency, Wolflock didn’t care. He left three of the buckets at the room that Nü was in and shoved Mothy back into bed as he ran onto the deck and used a loose rope to drop the buckets into the
fresh water river. He was one bucket short though, which he realised when he had filled the three he had. Feeling frantic but still looking composed he glanced around the deck, but only found a half barrel of Tuiti fruit, which he happily tipped out and filled with the water he’d gotten from his last bucket. Finally having four containers with water he began lugging them downstairs, first one to Mothy (who he had to threaten with a fierce stare to get to lay down again), then two for Nü to hand out and the last to Gege (“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that!” he exclaimed with a tired, happy sigh).

  Not used to doing such strenuous physical labour, his arms ached and his adrenaline had worn off. He was tired and hungry and the sun had barely risen, but he felt obligated to help for some strange reason (he put it down to Mothy’s too-good nature rubbing off on him).

  “Is there anything else you need, Miss Nü?” he asked a little reluctantly as he approached the Dlumi’s room.

  He was surprised to see her jump away from her patient and hide one arm behind her back, looking like she’d been caught stealing. Dlumi was sweating but she didn’t seem as delirious or shaky as the others.

  “Um... ah... no! No that’s all thanks. Father may want some assistance though. I’ll come and get you when I need aid,” her voice shook a little and Wolflock was suspicious, but too hungry to pay it much heed. Her accent was very pleasant though, like she said her words in a different part of her mouth, making it sound like a bubbling brook. He could definitely see why Mothy liked her so much.

  “Aye,” was his huffy response as he stalked away.

  He felt above the position of errand boy or bucket collector now and wished to resign to the dining hall. But regardless, he made his way to Slavidus’ room and knocked briefly before entering.

  Nan Ji was taking Slavidus’ pulse and Yifi stood by the door looking worried, twisting a handkerchief in her hands.

  “Yifi?” Wolflock queried, not wanting to disturb Nan Ji (Or be given anymore chores that didn’t surround Mothy’s health), “What are you doing here?”